One Hundred Holy Songs, Carols, and Sacred Ballads Original, and suitable for music [by Jean Ingelow] |
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[I wait till Christ be form'd in me] |
 | One Hundred Holy Songs, Carols, and Sacred Ballads |  |
146
[I wait till Christ be form'd in me]
“Till Christ be formed in you.”
I wait till Christ be form'd in me,
My heart his mortal home would be,
The babe of God, and Him confess.
Drink of my cup, and reach me Thine,
Eat of my bread, in me enshrine
Thy sorrows and Thy humbleness.
My heart his mortal home would be,
The babe of God, and Him confess.
Drink of my cup, and reach me Thine,
Eat of my bread, in me enshrine
Thy sorrows and Thy humbleness.
A very babe that crept the floor,
His stars shone through the open door;
He gazing wist not what they were.
Partaker of our milk and meal,
When those His mother forth would deal,
He sweetly watch'd her for His share.
His stars shone through the open door;
He gazing wist not what they were.
Partaker of our milk and meal,
When those His mother forth would deal,
He sweetly watch'd her for His share.
With musing long my heart doth yearn,
The silence of His youth to learn,
The striving that His soul would stir.
By faith, by searchings and by thought,
In eastern sheds with Him I've wrought,
Many good days, a carpenter.
The silence of His youth to learn,
The striving that His soul would stir.
By faith, by searchings and by thought,
In eastern sheds with Him I've wrought,
Many good days, a carpenter.
There is no glory, and no grace—
None, Thou Child-God, but in Thy face,
None, Thou God-man, but in Thy mien,
For I do know Thee; on the strand,
When as the nets were drawn to land,
Thy humble follower I have been.
None, Thou Child-God, but in Thy face,
None, Thou God-man, but in Thy mien,
For I do know Thee; on the strand,
When as the nets were drawn to land,
Thy humble follower I have been.
147
O Christ, and I did watch with Thee,
In the garden of Gethsemane;
Yet after I denied Thy name.
Yea, and amen—for now my tears,
Young man that saved me, all my years,
Fall, for Thy worship, and my shame.
In the garden of Gethsemane;
Yet after I denied Thy name.
Yea, and amen—for now my tears,
Young man that saved me, all my years,
Fall, for Thy worship, and my shame.
For me Thy precious blood was shed;
For me they made that holy head
Familiar with the burial myrrh;
My name was writ in heaven that day,
When Thou didst warm Thy sacred clay,
And break the sealèd sepulchre.
For me they made that holy head
Familiar with the burial myrrh;
My name was writ in heaven that day,
When Thou didst warm Thy sacred clay,
And break the sealèd sepulchre.
Great Elder Brother, deeply dear,
Thy perfect love doth cast out fear;
Thy goodness long my theme shall be.
I wait becalm'd, and draw my breath,
At home with pain, at one with death,
In league with God because of Thee.
Thy perfect love doth cast out fear;
Thy goodness long my theme shall be.
I wait becalm'd, and draw my breath,
At home with pain, at one with death,
In league with God because of Thee.
| One Hundred Holy Songs, Carols, and Sacred Ballads | |